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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26143135">Because He Left Her</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LozaMoza/pseuds/LozaMoza'>LozaMoza</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Moments [17]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Canon Compliant, F/M, Heavy Angst, Light Smut, One Shot, Pain, Regret, Sad Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, because Geralt and Yennefer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:00:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>800</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26143135</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LozaMoza/pseuds/LozaMoza</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Geralt left Yennefer six months ago, but she certainly hasn't left him. </p><p>I like my Witcher with an extra helping of angst, and boy do these two make it easy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Moments [17]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1806943</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Because He Left Her</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>She moved against him slowly, her body a pathwork of gold and white from the sunlight weaving its way through the leafy boughs above them, and to him she looked like some otherworldly being, a goddess sent from a place far more beautiful and perfect than anything this Continent could offer. The tendrils of her inky curls bounced softly around her face and shoulders, rippling their way down her back, and he reached to touch one, to feel the smooth silk in-between his rough and calloused hands. He did not deserve such softness; witchers were meant for hard and unyielding steel and iron and claw and tooth, not for pliable bodies and agonizingly-perfect curves.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yen,” he whispered as she rocked her hips into his once more. He gasped and pulled her down to him. “Yen, I need you.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She kissed his lips, and she tasted like sweet water after a long ride upon parched earth under a scorching sun. He drank her in as if she was life itself, because for him she was. She allowed it. </em><br/>
<br/>
<em>“I know,” she replied against his lips. “I’ve always known.” She rolled her hips against him again and he groaned, gripping her body to steady himself. He could feel his release beginning, but he wanted this to last. He’d stay in her forever if he could. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I miss you. You have no idea how much I miss you.” She ground into him again and he swallowed a moan. He was close.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“But I do, Witcher.” She kissed his neck, then bit his earlobe lightly. “How could I not?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was too much for him. He pulled her flush with his chest and felt her body quaking above him, her core rippling against him as her orgasm crashed over her in time with his. They cried out together, bodies alighting in passion. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The world stopped.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Come back to me,” she whispered, her voice distant and fuzzy. He felt her fading from his arms.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yen, stop! Don’t go!” he said in a panic. He squeezed his arms around her, but it made no difference. She was falling away like sand through open fingers. “Please, Yen!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I never did, Geralt. That was you.” With one last feather-soft kiss, she was gone. </em>
</p><p>
  <strong>***</strong>
</p><p>He woke with a start, beads of sweat trickling along his brow. His heart was hammering in his chest, adrenaline coursed through his veins, and from the uncomfortable wetness in his trousers, Geralt knew he had made yet another mess in his smallclothes. </p><p>He threw his head back in frustration. His dreams of her were getting more frequent, more intense, and waking from them hurt more each and every time. </p><p>But what was he to do? He had left her. It had been six months, and the string of dark-haired whores he'd employed had done nothing to expunge her memory. </p><p>It was like his very skin missed her. Was that even possible? For skin to have a memory?</p><p>With a grunt, he pulled his body up and reached for his saddlebags. Digging through the contents, he found the carefully-wrapped oil cloth parcel and pulled it out. Before he had left her on that wretched dreary dawn, he had taken one of his tunics and dipped the collar in a jar of her perfume. He had placed the lid carefully back, hoping she wouldn’t notice the small theft. At the time, the thought of being away from her scent was so gut-wrenchingly painful that he had needed to do it. Since then, when the moments of missing her threatened to overwhelm him, he had taken out that shirt, held it to his nose, and imagined he was kissing the soft skin of her neck, just below the jawline, and she was sighing into his touch. </p><p>Slowly, reverently, he unpacked the tunic and put it to his nose. </p><p>But the smell was gone.</p><p>“No…,” he begged as he began to squeeze the shirt, smelling every inch of it, looking for any faintest whiff of her perfume. “Please no…”</p><p>He found nothing except traces of oil from the cloth it had been wrapped in. </p><p>“FUCK!!!!” he screamed out into the night air. He heard Roach snort in displeasure and stamp her hooves at the disruption of her sleep. He threw the shirt down. For six months it had been an item more precious to him than anything else he owned, but now it was nothing more than a worthless piece of linen. He buried his head in his hands. </p><p>“Yen, I miss you.” His voice was strained, and he felt his chest constrict with pain and loss and endless longing. He didn’t even have the pretense of her lilacs and gooseberries to hide behind anymore. </p><p>He was wholly, utterly alone.</p><p>And she was gone.</p><p>Because he left her. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Geralt is such a sad hoe. :(</p><p>Thank you so much for reading and for your support. Seriously fam, love you guys.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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